The Elvenking
by Elberethia
Summary: King Thranduil portrayed sympathetically in a tribute to "The Highwayman".


A/N: A tribute to my favourite Elf-king, a truly misunderstood monarch.  
Thank you to my fantastic beta-reader, Thundera Tiger; I am blessed to have  
a beta as "finicky" as she. ;)  
Disclaimer: I do not own Thranduil, Legolas, any Wood-elves (Life is  
unfair.) or the poem "The Highwayman". Homage is paid to both J.R.R.  
Tolkien and Alfred Noyes.  
  
The Elvenking  
I  
The wind was the sound of a river  
Among the whispering leaves,  
The moon was a flower of the ancients,  
Shining through the forest eaves,  
The stars looked down on the pathway,  
And along the brown earth sore,  
The Elvenking came riding,  
Riding, riding,  
The Elvenking came riding,  
Up to the hidden door.  
  
II  
A diadem perched on his forehead,  
A tunic of emerald green,  
And a cloak of shadowy velvet,  
Embroidered by his queen,  
Leggings of silken darkness  
Met boots wrapped up to the knee,  
And he rode with the strength of Thingol,  
The remembered grace of Thingol,  
The majesty of Thingol,  
His splendour all could see.  
  
III  
He'd a stag felled by his arrow,  
And behind him his warriors rode,  
Laughing for the joy of the hunt  
Along the moonlit road,  
Surrounded by his courtiers,  
Trying to forget the dark,  
For here loomed the shadows of Mirkwood,  
Lost was the glory of Greenwood,  
Dead leaves hung limp from the black wood,  
No longer silver bark.  
  
IV  
He uttered the ancient password;  
The great doors opened wide.  
His people crowded around him,  
As he entered the warmth inside,  
But suddenly they parted,  
To see a messenger there,  
"I have come from Imladris,  
Protected, soft Imladris,  
A message from Imladris,  
The Prince caught in a snare."  
  
V  
"What news is this of my child?  
What ill befell him there?"  
And he thought of an elfling wild,  
His son of golden hair.  
The messenger bowed and said to him  
"Greenleaf, so keen of sight,  
Is taken by adventure,  
Captured by adventure,  
His heart stolen by adventure,  
He promised that he would fight."  
  
VI  
"'Tis well," said the King with a smile,  
"He seeks to protect our home.  
Our forest and its people,  
Our rock-hewn Elven-combe."  
"My lord, you misunderstand me,  
He stayed in Rivendell,  
He's leaving on a quest, my king,  
A doomed, forsaken quest, my king,  
A dark and hopeless quest, my king,  
As time itself will tell."  
  
VII  
With a look of worry from his lord,  
The messenger told his tale,  
Of the Ring and the Mount of Doom,  
And the Elf-king's face grew pale,  
As he thought of a laughing child,  
His beloved youngest son,  
And the memory dark of Mordor,  
The horror black of Mordor,  
His youngest travelling to Mordor,  
Off to destroy the One.  
  
VIII  
He ran into the gardens,  
The wind was the sound of the seas,  
The winter gusts were chilling,  
When the King fell to his knees,  
He raged against the Half-Elf,  
And the arrogance of Men,  
And he cursed the pride of Isildur,  
The doom and loss of Isildur,  
He wept for the death of Isildur,  
And the victory that had never been.  
  
IX  
Many long months he waited,  
Defending his Silvan kin,  
Without any news of his child,  
Battling 'gainst dark and sin,  
When suddenly it was over,  
And Middle-earth was free,  
By the courage of two halflings,  
The love of two, small halflings,  
The suffering of two halflings,  
Yet his son had heard the Sea.  
  
X  
He came home on a summer twilight,  
Leaves speckled with teary dew,  
Eyes bereft of innocence,  
Soul torn by that wailing mew,  
He saw his father waiting,  
He gave him a weak smile,  
And the Elf-king wept for his child,  
His slender, war-torn child,  
His saddened, heartbroken child,  
Changèd by the miles.  
  
XI  
His eyes grew dark with worry,  
He tilted his head to the side,  
What if he wasn't forgiven?  
What if his heart had lied?  
But then the Elf-King stood up,  
Beneath that starry dome,  
And weeping, he embraced him  
Laughing, he embraced him  
Loving, he embraced him,  
His son returnèd home.  
  
XII  
Still on an autumn night, they say,  
When the wind is in the leaves,  
When the moon is a flower of the ancients,  
Shining through the forest eaves,  
When the stars look down on the pathway,  
Along the brown earth sore,  
The Elvenking comes riding,  
Riding, riding,  
The Elvenking comes riding,  
Up to the hidden door. 


End file.
